Third Time's the Charm
by Khentkawes
Summary: “I told Merlin that the third time’s the charm. He didn’t know what I meant. If he’d understood, he would have stopped me.” Daniel angst, post-Shroud.
1. three times

Title: Third Time's the Charm

Summary: "I told Merlin that the third time's the charm. He didn't know what I meant. If he'd understood, he would have stopped me." Daniel angst, post-Shroud.

Spoilers: The Shroud, The Light

Warnings: abundant amounts of angst. Discussion of suicide. Possible attempted suicide (depends on how you interpret it.). Implication of much nastiness, but no details.

Author's Notes: This is a bit of an experiment, so I'm not entirely sure if it works or not. Although I never contradict the canon events, I consider this story slightly AU because I imply that Daniel's time with Merlin and Adria was even more unpleasant than we were led to believe.

* * *

Part 1 – Three Times

Thankfully this last mission wasn't that difficult. But tensions are still pretty high. Even more than the rest of us, Jackson seems on edge. He rarely speaks and when he does his voice is almost brittle, as though he will fall apart if anyone so much as looks at him the wrong way.

I was worried enough to ask Sam about it. She's known him longer, and I figured she'd have a better idea of how to handle it if there really was something wrong with him. She just told me to give him space and let him handle it on his own. "He just needs some time to sort through everything in his head. It's the way he always handles stuff like this."

I wonder now how she could sound so nonchalant. "Stuff like this," she'd said. As though it happens all the time. I mean, yes, I've read the reports and I know they've all been through some pretty tough shit. So have I, but they've been doing this longer, and for some reason Jackson always seems to fall into the worst of it. But even with all that experience, I can't help but think that this time was different for him somehow. There was something more personal about it. Something more than his life that was on the line here, and he had only an alien wizard to help make sure he came out intact. Honestly, I'm still not sure that he has.

Each time we step through the gate now, I'm waiting for something to go wrong. But this time nothing happened. At least as far as I can tell.

Jackson's the first one done with his post-mission exam, and I see him leave without saying a word. I'm finished shortly afterwards, and I head to the locker room, trying to rehearse some sort of speech for him, some way to find out what's really going on here. Whatever words I had meant to say drip to the floor when I enter and see what he's doing.

His jacket is lying on a bench and his gear has been discarded haphazardly to the side, as if he didn't really care where it landed. Jackson is standing with his back to me, leaning with one arm braced on the edge of the sink and staring into the mirror. In the other hand, he holds a knife. Not a razor blade like he's going to shave. But a knife.

His shoulders are tense and I can see that his shirt is damp with sweat. Looking over his shoulder, I can just make out his reflection in the mirror. Blood-shot blue eyes stare out of the looking glass, but I'm distracted by the blade that he's holding in front of his face, as if admiring its quality.

"Have you ever tried to kill yourself?" he asks suddenly. I wonder if he knows that it's me. Can he see my reflection just as I can see his?

"No," I say quietly. "I never have."

"Apparently I'm not very good at it," Daniel says. And a chill runs up my spine. "You'd think with how many times I've died it wouldn't be so hard."

I see his lips quirk in an amused half-smile. Or some grotesque mockery of one.

I might as well be frozen to the floor because I have no idea what to do at this moment.

"I told Merlin that the third time's the charm." His voice isn't brittle now. It's calm and cold. Reasonable. Or it would be if it weren't for the words themselves. "He didn't know what I meant." Daniel lets out a grating laugh that makes me tense involuntarily. "Even a formerly ascended Ancient can get confused by a simple figure of speech. Just a twist of language."

He continues turning the blade left and right before his eyes, like an ancient artifact worthy of study.

"If he'd understood, he would have stopped me. He could have, you know. He could take control whenever he wanted. I tried to convince myself that it was different than being a host, but I wasn't always sure. " His voice is quieter now, almost cautious as if he is afraid Merlin is still here and will somehow hear him. "He didn't stop me because he didn't know. He had access to my memories, so he should have known. The third time's the charm, I said. But he didn't understand. All the knowledge of the universe didn't make a difference." He scoffs slightly. "Knowledge of the universe, but not of the effect of pain…of loss. He couldn't know."

Daniel puts the blade down on the edge of the sink and pulls back. He holds his left wrist in front of him for examination and he traces the finger of his right hand along the vein. "I thought the scars would never heal. But, no. Of course they healed. The others did, so why would these be any different. Adria scarred me, burned me. Merlin too. Those scars are gone and I'm glad. But these scars," he holds the unblemished wrist, "these were mine. And he took those away as well. Merlin and Adria. They took everything away."

I pray that I'm misinterpreting the feelings behind those words, but then he reaches for the knife. He picks up the blade again in his right hand, still holding his left wrist in front of him.

I hear the door open and hold up a hand to stop whoever might be standing there. A quick glance confirms that it's Teal'c. He looks from me to Jackson and back again, mouth open slightly as if he wants to ask something, but no words come.

"Look, Jackson," I say. "It's over now." He doesn't respond and I say the only thing that he needs to hear. "You don't have to do this."

He shakes his head slowly. "You don't understand either. It was the only thing I could do. The only protest. A futile resistance at best, but it was all I had. They took away the only evidence that I was still me. They took my life. Wasn't that enough?"

"But you can have all of that back now," I say, feeling like I've walked into a fog. I never expected to be having this kind of conversation. Never. "You won, Jackson. And you got your life back. It's right here."

For a long moment, he simply stands there, trembling. I look to Teal'c, begging for help. He appears even more stunned than I am, if that's possible.

Jackson lets out a shaky breath. "Yes. I did." Slowly, deliberately, he draws the knife across his wrist. Blood dribbles and droplets land in the sink, the steady dripping seemingly the only noise in the room.

Teal'c starts to move forward, but I stop him, not because I disagree with the sentiment, but because I have a feeling that Jackson needs to make this decision on his own without us forcing him. And I'm starting to think that I really don't understand what's going on here.

For a moment, Jackson watches the blood trickling down his wrist. He seems fascinated by the path it threads across his skin before it drips down to the white porcelain. I can see each drop as it falls through the air, landing in the sink with a quiet plinking sound.

Finally he turns, looking at us briefly, then back down to his wrist before he moves over to the bench. For the first time I notice that amongst Jackson's discarded gear sits a first aid kit, placed within easy reach. He moves to it and pulls out a bandage, placing it over his bleeding wrist and covering it with his right hand to apply pressure.

None of us say anything. I look to Teal'c questioning, almost pleading for him to explain what we've just seen, but he shakes his head. Neither of us have any answers. What can you say when you've just watched a friend sliced his own wrist?

Jackson looks up. I notice now that his eyes are red-rimmed, but clear and bright, not dull and lifeless as I expected.

"You guys should go shower," he says. "If we're late to the briefing, we'll never hear the end of it."

How can he sound so normal when just moments ago he sounded so... not?

"And what of you, Daniel Jackson?" Teal'c asks.

Daniel glances at his wrist. "This has almost stopped bleeding. I'm just gonna bandage it up and then I'll get ready. It won't take long."

I shake my head in utter disbelief. "Jackson, maybe you should go back to the infirmary," I suggest, trying to sound gentle and not worried or confused as hell, which is closest to the truth… a truth that keeps slipping away from me.

"Why?" The word sounds so simple and for a moment he sounds like a child, innocent and questioning.

"So Dr. Lam can take a look at… that." I gesture vaguely towards his wrist.

He looks at it too, pulls back the bandage and I see three neat slices. The last one is still bleeding sluggishly and he replaces the bandage. "There's nothing she can do about it," he says. He must see my skeptical look. "I can handle a simple scratch," he responds with a hint of a smile. I want to say that's it's not a scratch, it's the slice of a knife through flesh. It's not one cut, it's three. And it's not simple, it's self-inflicted. But I don't say any of those things. He waves us off with a quiet, "go on," and for some reason we do. Maybe because he seems so normal now. Calm and logical. I look over my shoulder and see him pulling out gauze and disinfectant.

I hurry in the shower. When I'm done, I grab my clothes, pulling them on hastily as I look out to see if he's still there or if he took the opportunity to finish the job. I realize that Teal'c is behind me, already dressed and quietly looking around.

The locker room is empty. His gear is cleaned up, the med kit has been put away. I look over my shoulder and catch sight of the mirror. Slowly, I walk over to it, drawn by an unidentifiable… something. The knife still sits on the edge of the sink and a small trail of blood disappears into the drain. I look in the mirror and see my own worried face staring back at me. And I wonder what it was that Jackson saw when he stared at his reflection

* * *

Author's Note: I really wanted to just end the story here, but it seemed to need some explanation. And the more I try to explain, the longer this supposedly "little" story seems to get.


	2. the first two times

Part 2 – The First Two Times

"Come on, Daniel, give me something to work with here." He said nothing. Made no response. Quietly, he leaned back into the couch cushions, sipping the warm liquid from his cup. It wasn't coffee, but the sweet taste of chocolate was almost as good. "Daniel, you're gonna have to talk about it sooner or later."

"Why?" His tone was guileless, almost curious. The question sounded simple, and as far as Daniel was concerned, it was simple. But he knew Jack wouldn't see it that way.

"Why?" Jack repeated the word incredulously, his tone sharper than Daniel's had been. "Well, for one thing, there's no way Hank will let you back on active duty until you do. And since you refused to see the base psychologist, or any psychologist for that matter, you're stuck with me." Daniel looked at his best friend sitting across from him in his own living room, silently evaluating Jack's expression as much as his words. Jack looked frustrated at the continued lack of response. "Look, I know you, Daniel. Whether you want to admit it or not, you _need_ to talk about this. You can't just ignore it. If you do it'll eat you alive."

Daniel took another drink of hot chocolate, closing his eyes in appreciation as the warm liquid traveled down his throat, warming him from within. He had been so cold for so long. Cold inside and out as he sat on that Ori ship. Cold as he stood on a balcony on an early Colorado morning. Cold as he ran from adults who couldn't understand and a situation he wasn't strong enough to face.

Daniel washed the memories away with the drink. It was done. And he didn't regret it. Well… maybe only a little.

"Daniel." Jack sounded almost desperate. Again, Daniel glanced at his friend. Yes, Jack was definitely concerned. "Please, Daniel. Let me help."

"How?"

Jack sighed. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

"What makes you think there's anything going on?"

"Because like I said, I know you." There was a moment of companionable silence that seemed at odds with the discussion at hand. "You scared Mitchell, you know."

"Why?"

"Oh, I don't know," Jack said irritably. "Maybe, because you cut your own wrist while he was watching?"

"I bandaged it when I was done," Daniel protested.

"Oh yes. Of course. And that just makes this the most bizarre thing I've ever heard. Why would you intentionally hurt yourself only to perform first aid moments later?"

"Well, it's not like I'm trying to kill myself."

"Maybe not this time, but apparently you've tried before." The sharp edge of frustration faded out of his voice as Jack sighed again. "Daniel, Mitchell's not the only one who's worried about you."

He waited, heard Jack settle next to him on the couch, felt his friend's discomfort, his concern. He waited long enough that Jack would be wondering if he was ever going to speak at all. Daniel looked down into the dark liquid in his cup and began to speak without looking up.

"The first time, I was thirteen. I don't think I really wanted to die, but I couldn't think of another way out. I decided that I had to do something. Some twisted act of self-preservation, perhaps. And it worked. I tried to overdose on pain pills and a teacher caught me. He called my social worker and I was pulled out of that foster home so fast that… well, if I'd known it was that easy, I might have tried it earlier. I'm not sure if they knew why I did it, but then again they must have noticed the bruises. It couldn't have been too hard to figure out."

He sighed deeply, but still didn't look up, didn't want to see the look of dawning comprehension and pity on his best friend's face.

"The second time, you know about. You probably remember more about it than I do."

"That planet with the funky light thing?"

Daniel nodded. "Yeah."

"You know we've never talked about that."

His head jerked up, piercing Jack with a brief glare. "Since when have you ever been one for talking?"

The glare went unnoticed. "Let's just say, a good friend taught me not to keep everything bottled up inside. It'll make you explode. And that's usually a bad thing."

Daniel couldn't resist a grin. "Yeah, right. Exploding bad. Got it."

"What do you remember?" Jack pressed, refusing to be sidetracked.

"Not much," Daniel admitted. "Nothing logical, just an overwhelming feeling of… hopelessness, I guess. Like nothing I did mattered and I couldn't think of a reason to keep going." He took a sip of hot chocolate. "But that was the addiction talking. And I knew it wasn't right. I remember thinking that something was wrong, that there had to be another reason for what was happening… for what I was feeling. But then I walked out onto the balcony to try and clear my head, to try and make sense of everything, and I looked down… and then I was too numb to think about anything at all."

For a moment, there was only silence.

"You know you scared the shit out of me that time," Jack said calmly. For some reason, Daniel smiled. "I went to your apartment all prepared to read you the riot act, planning to tell you to shape up or ship out, and then I find you ready to take a header off the balcony." Jack stopped. When he spoke again, he carefully looked Daniel in the eye. "The tone of your voice was terrifying."

"Now you know how I felt on that first mission to Abydos. Every time I looked at you I could see the absolute despair in your eyes. And it just seemed wrong."

For a moment there was silence as the weight of all their years of friendship and loss washed over them. Finally, Jack cleared his throat.

"Okay. So, the first time you were just a kid. You were in a bad situation and you didn't know how to handle it. I can accept that. And the balcony incident… well that wasn't entirely your fault. So, you care to explain what happened this time?"

Daniel shot him an angry look. "I thought we'd been over this. It's a scratch. It doesn't matter why it's there, it just is. I wasn't trying to kill myself."

"Yeah? So why did you say the third time's a charm? Why were you talking as though you tried to kill yourself back on that Ori ship?"

"That was… that was entirely different."

"Oh really? Care to explain it to me, Dr. Jackson?" The sarcasm dripped off Jack's voice, but they both knew it was a defense mechanism, an attempt to hide the genuine concern.

Again, Daniel was silent for so long that he could feel Jack's impatience.

"It wasn't what you think." He winced slightly at the defensive tone. "Well, it was, but not really."

"So, explain it to me."

Daniel let out a deep breath. "It wasn't about pain or desperation or anything like that. I think it was some small attempt at resistance. A protest of sorts. I needed to do something that had nothing to do with Merlin or Adria or the Ori in order to make sure that I still existed apart from them. To make sure I was still me."


	3. the third time

Author's Note: I planned to have this up long before now, but real life attacked with a vengeance and it took a while for me to mount a successful counter-attack. My apologies and thanks to those who have taken the time to read this. There will be an epilogue to follow.

* * *

Part 3 – The Third Time

_Well, as the saying goes, the third time's the charm._

The thought had barely formed when Merlin picked up on it. I sensed his puzzled frown just before he spoke in my mind. _I do not understand your meaning._

Of course he didn't. Why would he. _Never mind_, I told him._ It's just an earth phrase. It's not important._

For a moment, I though Merlin would object, but perhaps he decided it wasn't worth the trouble. I still wasn't used to this mental communication, wasn't sure how to make my thoughts carry the correct tone and inflection. Nonetheless, I tried to sound contrite when I continued. _I'm sorry Merlin. I think I just need some time to sort out my own thoughts._

I couldn't be totally sure, but he seemed vaguely irritated when he replied. _Very well. I will allow you your privacy._ I imagined that, from the Merlin's perspective, privacy was an unnecessary luxury, a concession to my frail human needs. Nonetheless, he consented and withdrew to the corner of my mind that he had claimed as his own.

I had to admit, this experience had its advantages. I had access to at least some of Merlin's knowledge. We'd had a few long discussions about ascension, and although Merlin was unable to restore my memories (though I wasn't even sure I wanted those memories back in the first place), Merlin was able to answer many of my questions, questions that had plagued me since my first ascension and only multiplied after my last encounter with Oma and Anubis.

But then, there were the disadvantages, and that was where I had a problem. I had thought I was willing to do anything to defeat the Ori, no matter what sacrifices I might be forced to make. But there are some sacrifices that shouldn't be made.

Not that I would be given a choice in the matter.

It wasn't that I disagreed with Merlin's plan, exactly. I knew it was our best chance at success and we'd spent hours silently talking it over, running through every possible scenario. Like Merlin, I was convinced that this was the only way.

We both knew that we probably wouldn't survive the mission. Merlin would die either way. If we succeeded, my body would revert to my "previous state" (which still sounded a little surreal to me), and Merlin would be gone. But we both knew that we probably wouldn't make it to that point. We would fly the Ori ship through the Supergate, activate the Sangreal in the Ori home galaxy, and either die on the ship or be executed by the Doci on Celestus, who would sense the Ori's demise and bring an army to hunt me down. Or hunt _us_ down assuming Merlin was still with me at that point.

Still, two lives are a small price to pay to save an entire galaxy. Especially when we both had already cheated death so many times. The idea of dying again didn't frighten me anymore.

But even though I understood the importance of what we had to do, I still hated it, despised the necessity of it. I may be a proficient soldier these days, but I still despise the necessity of killing. I dread those times when I have to use weapons instead of words. And despite all the justifications, the Sangreal was still a weapon – a very powerful weapon capable of killing countless beings.

And that wasn't the only thing bothering me. I knew that in order to fly the Ori ship and complete our suicide mission, we had to allow Adria to turn me into a prior. But even that felt like a betrayal of everything I believed in, a betrayal of my own humanity in a way. Every time I looked down at my own hands they looked wrong. Thankfully there were no mirrors in my chamber – the little cell where Adria kept me on the rare occasions when she left me alone. I don't think I would have been able to stand the sight of what I'd become.

But with Merlin safely slumbering in my subconscious, I knew it was okay to act on that revulsion, to make a very clear statement of my disgust at the situation I found myself in.

I glanced at the Ancient device fixed to the wall. A device just like that one had started all of this, years ago. If we'd never encountered that device, I would never have learned to speak Ancient from Jack. If we hadn't encountered the second device, then we never would have found the Ancient outpost that eventually led to Atlantis. And if I hadn't found this device, I never would have found myself living like a stranger in my own mind.

For a long time, I stood in front of the device, simply staring at this powerful force of creation and destruction, thinking of all the possibilities that it represented. Turning to the nearby table, I glanced over the scattered pieces I had created so far, lifeless and impotent as they waited to be assembled. I picked up a clear shard, a single, sharp-edged piece of a weapon that could represent the salvation of an entire galaxy… maybe more.

I pushed back the sleeve of my robe, exposing skin, and drew the sharp edge across my wrist, slicing through flesh and into the vein. I slid the makeshift blade up my arm, drawing crimson lines against the unnaturally pale skin.

The pain, dull and comforting, drew Merlin's awareness.

_Dr. Jackson? What are you doing?_

I watched the blood appear, dripping down my forearm.

_Daniel, stop!_

I sank to his knees, still looking up at the device and wondering what would have happened if I had never looked into that Pandora's box, never joined with Merlin or took on this mission.

I should have known that Merlin would take advantage of my fading concentration, seizing control while I wavered. I gasped as I felt the Ancient's healing power stop the bleeding and close up the wound.

The doorway hissed open and Merlin quickly tugged down our sleeve, stashing the bloodied crystal within our robe.

Merlin was still looking down, so I heard her voice before I saw her. "Daniel." I would have cringed at that deceptively sweet voice, but Merlin was in control. I heard her move closer, felt a hand move along my shoulder in a shuddering caress. "Are you well?"

"Yes," my voice replied. "Merely fatigued. Our work requires much of my energy."

Merlin looked up at the Orici and I saw childlike concern in those eyes. I might have believed it if I hadn't felt her cruelty firsthand. If I hadn't felt the pain she could inflict, or felt the shame of submitting to her will, of catering to her every whim.

Adria glanced from the device on the wall then back to where we knelt before it. "Your transformation should have made your work easier. That was part of our gift to you."

I tried to scoff at the term "gift," but the sound caught in my throat as Merlin pushed me further back into the corner of my mind.

"It has been a great blessing, Orici," he said with my voice. "You have given me more than I could have asked for and I am grateful for all that you have done for me. In my eagerness to serve you, sometimes I overexert myself. I just need to rest for a few moments. Then I will continue."

"No," Adria said. She knelt at our side, placing a hand against my cheek. I was glad I wasn't in control because I wouldn't have been able to hold back the nausea. I tried to convince myself that Adria was touching Merlin instead of me. Just as I tried to believe that it was Merlin that she had kissed, Merlin who had received Adria's intimate caress. But the distinction was becoming harder to see. "There is no hurry," Adria said. "Rest today. You can continue your work tomorrow."

"You are gracious, Orici."

My sense of revulsion grew. _Laying it on a little thick, don't ya think?_

Merlin replied with an irritated nudge.

Adria seemed to regard us for a moment, but saw nothing of our internal exchange. She gave us another sickeningly sweet smile before turning to leave the room.

I let out a sigh and was surprised to hear the breath pass my lips as Merlin allowed me some measure of control over my own body.

_Daniel Jackson, what were you thinking?_ His mental voice was sharp in my mind._ You almost ruined our plan. Do you want all of this to be for nothing?_

_Of course not, Merlin_, I replied, hearing the defeated tone of my own thoughts._ I'm sorry, but you wouldn't understand._

I shuddered as his derisive laugh rattled my brain. _You are right about that, young one. I do not understand how you could allow a moment of emotional weakness to jeopardize all that we have worked so hard for._

_I know, Merlin. I know. Nothing has changed. I'm as committed to this plan as I always have been._

_That is what worries me, my friend._ I wasn't sure if that thought was supposed to sound exasperated or concerned.

I merely shook my head in frustration. _Merlin, I understand the importance of what we're doing here. And I knew you would stop me before it went too far._

_Then why would you do something so foolish?_

I had to think before I could respond, unsure how to answer in a way he could understand. When I did answer, it was slow and deliberate. I tried to make my answer as dispassionate as possible, knowing that Merlin wouldn't be swayed by an emotional appeal. But my calm state of mind seemed to confuse him further.

_I have sacrificed a lot of things to make this work_, I said simply._ We both have. Merlin, you've sacrificed centuries of your life to ensure the Sangreal is used to stop the Ori._

Merlin sighed. _Yes, Daniel. I understand the nature of sacrifice. And I understand this cannot be easy for you._ _But you must not be swayed from our goal. I warned you from the beginning that this quest would require great sacrifice and even greater revolve. Did I overestimate your determination?_

He may not have intended the condescending tone. Or maybe he was trying to get a reaction from me. If so, it worked. I responded heatedly, with a touch of anger. _You have no right to question my resolve. I may not have lived as long as you have, but I've spent ten years fighting to protect the people of my galaxy… fighting for people I don't even know!_

_Then you should understand that no real victory can come without sacrifice._

_Yes. But don't you ever think that we have sacrificed too much? That we lost something along the way?_

Merlin didn't reply, but I felt his confusion. I wondered if maybe Merlin couldn't understand. Maybe he wasn't so different from the Others… the ones who had sacrificed their compassion in their quest for enlightenment. The Others who had refused to let me help the people I cared about. The ones whose refusal to interfere had resulted in the needless sacrifice of so many innocent lives.

_Perhaps, I expected too much of you, Daniel. But I cannot allow you to make such another mistake. It was self-indulgent and childish. I will not allow our plan to be ruined by your moment of weakness_.

I sighed, but no breath escaped Merlin's lips. _Your plan, Merlin. It's your plan. I'm just the vehicle you've chosen to use._


	4. another moment

Part 4 – Epilogue: Another Moment

"You didn't have a choice, Daniel."

"Does that make everything okay?"

"Yes!" Jack stopped. "No. I don't know. Does it really matter? You did what needed to be done."

"Yeah. I guess I did." Daniel rubbed his fingers over his wrist. "That doesn't mean I have to be happy about it. It should never have been necessary in the first place."

Jack sighed. "No. No, it shouldn't have been." After a moment, Jack looked him in the eye, holding his gaze. "So," he said, keeping his tone deliberately casual, "the third time's the charm?"

Daniel winced slightly. "I didn't want to die on that ship, Jack. Not really. But Merlin was so desperate to stop the Ori. We both were really, but he would have done _anything_ to make it happen." Daniel took a deep, shuddering breath. "I guess that scared me a little. It scared me to see what I could become. It felt like I was losing myself to this overwhelming war with the Ori. And part of me felt like I was already dead anyway, like I'd died the moment I allowed Adria to turn me into a prior."

Daniel felt his breathing quicken, remembering the barely controlled panic he'd felt when Adria leaned towards him, surrounded by white light, and he had felt himself begin to change.

"Hey," Jack said quietly, his hand firmly rubbing Daniel's shoulder, bringing him back into the present. "It's done. Over. Finished. You can't change it."

Daniel heard himself exhale, felt his breath leave his body, taking most of the tension with it. "You're right."

"And just for the record," Jack raised a warning finger, "I am not allowing you to run off with any more frozen alien wizards on one of those half-baked goose chases to save the universe. From now on, Mitchell's in charge of the crazy plans. Your job is to bail him out when they go wrong. Understand?"

Daniel almost laughed. "Right. Of course. How could I forget."

Jack tilted his head to the side, regarding Daniel with a fond smile. "I'm proud of you, you know." Daniel tried not to let his surprise show, but he knew he failed. He'd never been good at hiding his emotions. It was the reason Merlin had so rarely allowed him control. "Despite what you seem to think," Jack continued, "you didn't let Merlin… Adria… whoever… you didn't let _them_ change you. Not where it really matters."

"You're sure about that?" Daniel asked, brows furrowed slightly as he genuinely considered Jack's words.

"Yeah." Jack smiled. "Yeah, I'm sure." He gently placed a hand on Daniel's shoulder. "Daniel, none of that was you. Not the big honkin' weapon, not the preaching Origin to the masses, not the insane plan to destroy the bad guys in some self-sacrificial blaze of glory… okay, maybe the self-sacrificial part was you, but the rest of it wasn't. You know that, right?"

Daniel gave him just the hint of a smile. "Yeah, Jack. I guess I do." He ran his fingers over his left wrist again, carefully, almost reverently. "I just had to remind myself that there was a difference between me and them."

"Trust me on this, Daniel, you're the only one who ever doubted yourself. The rest of us knew that you'd never sacrifice your beliefs." Daniel gave him a skeptical look. "Hey, you know I'm always right about these things," Jack insisted.

"So, the whole thing with me being a prior didn't bother you just a bit?"

"Well, sure," Jack replied lightly, "the ghostly look was a bit on the creepy side, but hey, I've seen stranger things."

"Yeah? When?"

"How about when Teal'c started to transform into a bug. When you switched bodies with an old alien scientist. When I got really old in a matter of days. When you somehow convinced Landry to let Vala join the SGC…"

"Okay," Daniel chuckled. "I get the picture."

Jack's gave Daniel's arm a brief squeeze. "So… everything going to be okay?"

Daniel's smile didn't falter. "I don't know if I would use the word 'okay,' but yeah. I'll be all right." Daniel settled back farther onto the couch, letting his shoulder bump against Jack's. "So, uh, how are we going to convince Landry that I'm not, ya know, nuts?"

"Oh, we're not."

"We're not?"

"Nope." Jack grinned. "He knows you're nuts. As a matter of fact, I think he's made it a job qualification for any member of SG-1." Daniel rolled his eyes. "No, I'm serious. It's gotta be an unwritten rule or something. 'Must be certifiably nuts in order to join SG-1.' Right?"

"Whatever you say, Jack." Daniel laughed again. "Whatever you say."

-fin-


End file.
